


Death Of A Flower

by sillyboyblue



Category: Blade Runner (1982)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:36:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8455639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillyboyblue/pseuds/sillyboyblue
Summary: "It's too bad she won't live... But then again who does ?"





	1. Discovery

"It's too bad she won't live... But then again who does ?"

Deckard knew what these words implied, and understood he had very little time. His fight with Roy had exhausted him and he thought he would pass out, but he needed to find the strength to get to his car, drive to his apartment, and leave to the North with Rachael. They would lead peaceful lives together and no one would hear of the blade runner and his replicant lover ever again.

Falling in love with a replicant was his first mistake. However he did not regret it.

He could still hear Roy's voice in his head.

"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe.   
Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate.   
All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.   
Time to die."

He would never forget those words coming from a dying man. They were simple words, but it was what they told that made them beautiful. Gaff's words seemed absurdly ugly compared to them. Some spoke of memories, of the things that were and no longer are, just like Roy was and no longer is. The others were a disgusting threat coming from an equally despicable human being. A man Deckard was supposed to ressemble. But he did not want to be a cold-blooded murderer.

Deckard did not wait to catch his breath again and hurried to his spinner. He drove too fast and almost crashed into another car. In this moment he hated everything he saw. The city lights were like fake stars and he felt as if trapped in a bird cage.

Once he arrived to the building where he lived, he ran to the elevator and cursed it for not being faster.

Rick held his breath in anticipation. When he got out he was faced with a scene worthy to be in his nightmares.

The lock was broken and there were bloody footsteps on the floor. The apartment was a mess and obviously Rachael had fought back. Some of the furniture was upside down, and random objects had been thrown across the room.

Deckard could barely breathe. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing to his head, and felt like throwing up.

He rushed to his bedroom and what he saw there knocked the air out of his lungs. He heaved and acid bile came up onto the floor.

Rachael, his Rachael, was lying in a pool of her own blood. She looked asleep and Deckard would have believed she was, had she not three bullet wounds in the chest.

His legs refused to let him stand anymore and he had to lean against the wall. In her hand was a bloody origami the shape of a flower.

Deckard fell to his knees and cursed. His fist collided with the floor heavily. Anger overcame him first and he felt like destroying his apartment further than it had already been. After doing this, he would find Gaff and kill him.

Guilt replaced his rage and he sank further to his knees until his forehead met the floor. He began to weep, letting out long and painful cries of grief. How could he arrive too late ? One moment she was there, alive and so beautiful, with her thick curly hair and red lips so inviting. Her eyes were those of a startled doe, and they were so soft when she was sad. She would never be sad anymore. She would never look at him ever again. She had found peace after being brutally murdered by a heartless man. He did not wish for this outcome. If she had to die, then at least let her die peacefully and painlessly.

Deckard realized she was barely clothed. She had dark bruises on her thighs. He couldn't help but notice their shape. They looked like fingers. As if someone had been holding her still.

He understood. He ran to the bathroom and threw up whatever was in his stomach. He had seen the sticky liquid between her legs.

The anger and guilt were replaced by disgust. She had been raped and murdered. She deserved anything but this. In this moment, while Gaff forced her to spread her legs for him, Deckard knew she wished to die.

Anger, guilt and disgust left him and he felt empty. He did not want to die, but to disappear. He did not want to be in his messy apartment with the cold body of the woman who once was his lover. She remained beautiful in death. At least her face was peaceful. It was almost as if nothing bad happened to her and she had died in her sleep. Sadly Deckard knew it was not true.

Sadness overcame him. He experienced the sensation of an invisible weight keeping him from getting up. His body was too heavy and his legs were numb. What was the last word that was spoken between them ? He could not remember. Soon he would begin to forget her face, then her voice, and the time he spent by her side would seem distant and unreal.

There was a knock on his door. Painfully he got up and opened to whoever wished to see him in this moment. Three men were there. They were dressed formally and had gloves. He had never seen them before and would probably never see them again. They did not speak a word as Deckard let them in. He knew they had come to remove Rachael's body.

Behind them he recognized Bryant. The man gave Deckard a fake sympathetic smile dripping with hypocrisy.

"You didn't know she was a rep, did you, Deck ?"

He chose to lie instead of admitting he hid a replicant in his apartment. What would they do to him if he confessed ? Probably nothing. Rachael was not dangerous. She did not represent a menace to human beings and she shouldn't have been retired.

A new feeling appeared in Deckard's heart. Indignation. He felt it burn his beating heart and melted his guts. He wanted to shout "Why ?". Why her when all the others, the real threats were dead ? Why did Gaff wake up one day with his gun loaded and think "I am going to retire an innocent" ? Why did they treat her like the others when she had helped them by shooting Leon ? Deckard realized they did not know any of that. They did not know what kind of person Rachael was and what she had done. They had prefered to get rid of her as a security measure. If in doubt, kill.

"I'm sorry about that. Take a day off."

What would a day off do ? Rick would still grieve in a day, and it definitely would not bring her back. What he needed was a life off. He was not considering suicide as an option, but the idea of it was very tempting. But he knew he would not do it. He still loved life.

Despite being and wishing to remain very alive, Bryant's next words would slowly kill him inside.

"We'll call you when we need you."


	2. Grief

It had been six months. Six months since his life had been turned upside down.

Six months since Gaff had retired - no, executed, assassinated, murdered, massacred Rachael.

Deckard had not gotten used to the silence in his apartment. He felt like screaming to fill it with something else than the void death had left behind. He wanted to throw his things against the walls. He barely cleaned up anything after the passage of Gaff. His pictures were still displayed on the floor. It was painful to look at them everyday. It reminded him of how alone he was.

Alone, all his life. It was Rick's lot. He wondered if Gaff had friends. A family. Probably not. Being a blade runner did not leave much time for raising children. Deckard did not know if he would never have any. Not if he kept sleeping with replicants.

He was not over Rachael's death. Time had passed but did not heal his broken heart. He realized he had nothing that proved she was ever there, that she even existed. He had begun to forget her face. He tried to trace it in his mind, the shape of her head, the line of her jaw, the curve of her eyebrows and the way sadness tugged at the corner of her lips. He had never seen her smile and he never would.

Gaff used his cane to knock on the thick door. Rick did not want to open but he did. He had to. This gesture, opening the door for this man to invade his own little private world made him sick. Gaff only needed to say one word and Deckard would follow him. He did not need a long speech to get what he wanted.

"Bryant."

Deckard was sitting in the large office, elbows digging into the armrests of his chair and chin on his joined hands.

He could feel Gaff's little blue eyes on his back, watching him in the shadow of his hat, in the same way a hound would.

The room was dark and the lamp on Bryant's desk pojected a dirty yellow light on a half empty bottle of whiskey.

"We've got two skinjobs on the run. One male, one female. Nexus-7. New models. Prototypes."

Deckard frowned. That was just his luck. He did not even know Nexus-7 were being built. Did they find someone to replace Tyrell ? Did they possibly create a replicant with his memories ?

"What more do they have than the Nexus-6 ?" He asked without much hope of getting the answer he wanted.

"Nothing in appearance. Apparently they have developed stronger feelings. Love, hate, all of that. But that is not our problem."

Rick was growing impatient. He did not care about what was important to the case, he would say no to Bryant.

He simply wanted to know.

"Then what is the problem ?

\- They have no termination date."

They were like Rachael, prototypes without a termination date. How old could they live ? Thinking about replicants living longer than humans sent shivers down his spine.

"One more thing, Deck. They were made from the Batty model."

Deckard's brows furrowed. What was a Batty model ? Batty... He knew this name.

"It means the male is identical to Roy Batty. The Rachael you knew, well, there are hundreds of other Rachaels like her, for example."

His Rachael was not unique. There were copies of his little woman, with curly brown hair and big dark eyes shining with tears. Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred women with a little nose, small hands that fidgeted when they were nervous and the softest lips. She was not unique. But for Rick, she was.

"It's the same for Roy and Irmgard Batty."

Roy was not unique either, he thought. Hundreds of men, waiting for their madness to be triggered, roaming on Mars. But Roy was not insane. He knew exactly what he was doing and why he was doing it. His methods however were questionable.

"So I'm going to hunt down Roy Batty's identical twin ?"

\- And his female twin, yes. Call it as you want. We'll give you their pictures. You know what the man looks like, but the woman... Pretty short, blonde, blue eyes... She looks like Greta Garbo. You heard of Greta Garbo ? I tell you, if she wasn't an andro... So don't go and fall in love with this one too."

Rick sighed.

"I'm not interested."

It was true. Retiring innocents did not, in fact, interest him, nor did he enjoy it. He did not even know what those poor skinjobs had done to be on the list. They simply were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

He also was not interested in the woman, no matter how attractive she was. He still loved Rachael although he knew it was pointless to hold onto a love that was dead.

Gaff's stare became more noticeable, as if he had read Deckard's thoughts. If he really could, then how about he reads this one. "I hope one of the Batty models finds you and takes care of you."

"You can't say no, Deck. They're dangerous, especially the male. You know it more than anyone."

Of course he did. Roy killed at least ten people on Mars, then came to Earth, and killed Eldon Tyrell and J.F. Sebastian. He played a sick game of cat and mouse with Rick before saving his life as the blade runner was falling from a roof.

If a replicant similar to him existed, who knew what he was capable of. Had he already killed ? Did he enjoy it ? Did he want to do it again ? Would he do it again ?

"I don't care. I told you I was quit last time. I am more quit than I have ever been now."

Something clicked in Bryant's head. He extended a finger toward Deckard with the smile of someone who just understood something.

"Did you know she was a replicant ?"

That's a joke, Deckard thought. Why did Bryant feel the need to remind him of her every five minute ? He was not over her death. For an instant he wanted to smash the whiskey bottle on his head.

"I told you I didn't."

It was only half true. A half lie, but it could not hurt. He did not know she was a replicant when he met her for the first time.

"But what if you did ? I wouldn't like it if you lied to me... You would have to sit the test."

The test was a threat to Deckard. He had never sat it, and lied to Rachael when she asked him if he had. He was afraid of the results. He often doubted his humanity. The idea of living a lie with memories that were not his own haunted his nightmares.

He understood he had no choice. He would have to find those two replicants and coldly shoot them down, and become like Gaff once again.


	3. Realization

Deckard was out for a walk in the city tonight.   
Hands in the pockets of his long brown coat, he walked down the streets he knew by heart. His old worn out shoes collided with the pavement with a wet sound as it was raining heavily, and Deckard let the drops fall on his head and shoulders. He passed by the places he knew and let his thoughts wander.

This street had a great noodle restaurant. He ate there almost everyday and always ordered the same thing. The cook knew him and he always let him pay a bit less than he really owed.

In this street was a alcohol shop with some rare bottles. They were expensive but after a long day they were of some comfort. He often bought them a bottle of sake after work.

In this street was Holden's apartment. He had not seen the man since he visited him at the hospital and he couldn't breathe without a machine. The irony of the situation put a bitter smile on Rick's face. Almost killed by a machine, than kept alive by another.

But replicants were hardly machines. They were more like clones. They were kept in an incubator until they were ready to be "born", and then lived the life they were programmed for until they reached their termination date. The Nexus-6 had four years.

He found somewhere to shield himself from the rain and took out the first picture.

He had not forgotten Roy's face, even after six months. White hair, blue eyes, elegant traits. His lips would curl into half a smile, half a pout when he was amused. Rick had only seen his animal side, the part of him that howled to the moonlight. He imagined him to be distinguished, civilized, a figure in society if there was such a thing as a replicant society.

He surprised himself by thinking about their encounter on the roof. When he fell and Roy caught him by the wrist. What if he had clung to him, to feel his skin, his warmth ? What if he hadn't let go ? Would Roy have held him ?

He shook his head to chase those thoughts. He found them disgusting. There could be nothing between them, not because they were two men, or because one was a human and the other a replicant, but because Roy was a cold-blooded murderer.

The idea still remained in a corner of his brain. Roy could have died in his arms.

He understood. Roy saved him because he did not want to die alone. Deckard would have held him if he had asked. He knew he would have. No matter what the world would have thought of it.

He refused to admit it, but after this fateful night on the roof, he had developed feelings for Roy. He suppressed them because he considered them as sick and twisted. Some kind of Stockholm syndrom. But despite his attempts at denying them they were still there. He'd wake up one night after an erotic dream and wonder what was wrong with him. He was fantasizing about a dead man.

He hid the picture behind the other one. He had to remember this man was not Roy Batty. This man did not know him. Roy was dead. This man was very much alive and probably dangerous.

He looked at the picture of the woman, Irmgard Batty.   
She was very pretty although she looked nothing like Rachael. She had sky blue eyes and light blonde hair.

From the corner of his brown eyes Rick noticed a shadow. It seemed to be following him. He did not pay too much attention to it : these past months had made him paranoid.

He was about to close the door to his apartment when a hand stopped it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really would have wanted to continue this one but I found too many incoherences in my scenario and I simply lost my inspiration.


End file.
